Tumblr Fic Drabbles - Dennor
by Well39
Summary: Requests from tumblr. Each story is stand-alone.
1. Behind Bars

Request for 'meeting in prison' au.

I actually have quite a few ideas for this, so it might turn into a full-length fic later on.

* * *

"Oi, Densen, cm'ere for a sec!"

Matthias looked up from his tray, and the sludge that passed for food in this place. The cafeteria was crowded, today being one of the days when most inmates were let out around the same time. Despite the usual noise, one of the less annoying prisoners had managed to get his attention from the other side of the hall. There were a few of them there, crowded against the back wall.

Matthias glanced up to the walkways, but the guards were studiously not paying attention to that particular area of the floor.

Interesting.

He rose from his seat and passed his tray along down the bench, strolling over to the crowd. He didn't have to push his way through the men. They parted in front of him, some shooting glares, others avoiding his gaze, but none ready to stand their ground. Matthias snorted. Looked like they still hadn't figured out where he'd got the axe from last time.

"You called?"

"Yeah, check this out." It was one of the guys that hung around him, went by the name Ralph or something equally stupid. Matthias didn't usually mind this one, his jokes were a good distraction from the boredom of this place. Right now, however, he was pinning someone against the wall, gesturing for Matthias to step closer.

He did so, reaching out and grabbing a fistful of the newcomer's hair - and he had to be a newcomer, if the guards weren't worried - jerking his face up into the light.

He whistled appreciatively. Ice-blue eyes glared at him from under a blond fringe, cool despite the trickle of blood from his nose.

"What have we got here?" Matthias let his gaze wander lower, travelling over the slim body, and then back up again, to where his captive's eyes had dropped to sub-zero temperatures.

"New guy, wouldn't tell us his name," Ralph supplied. "Wouldn't even speak. I was asking real polite and everything."

"So I see." Matthias grabbed the guy's chin and twisted his face back and forth, checking for any extra damage. Other than a split lip and bruised cheek, he seemed well enough. They really were being polite. "Well, sweetheart? Cherry pie? Honey?" he asked, forcing the man to look at him again. "My queen?" The frozen eyes narrowed. "Oh, I don't mind calling you that, actually."

"Lukas," the man spat. "You can call me Lukas." His voice was low, almost soft, and lilting - and no less deadly for it.

This one was beaten, but he wasn't broken.

Matthias liked that. He grinned. "Uh-uh, too late, I think I like 'queen' better." He released Lukas' chin and slung his arm over the man's shoulders. "You and me, we're gonna be pals, yeah?" Ignoring the nails digging into his side, he spun around to face the crowd. "Me and queenie here are buddies now, got that?"

There was a muttering of assent, some disappointed looks, and then they started to disperse. Ralph gave him an amused glance.

"What?"

"Nah, it's just, I knew you'd like this one." He waved and headed back to the table.

Matthias grinned again at Lukas, who was now quietly seething in his arms. His face promised murder, and it sent a shiver of excitement down Matthias' back.

"I'm Matthias Densen, but most people call me Den," he introduced himself, keeping a firm grip on the other's shoulder as he steered him towards a nearby table. The occupants either shuffled along to make room or relocated entirely.

"Do I look like I fucking care?" Lukas glowered. "Get your hands off me."

"Alright," Matthias complied, holding his arms up with an easy smile. "But don't think about leaving, queenie. The only thing stopping you from becoming the next big toy around here is me right now. And trust me," he sat, and patted the space next to him on the bench. "You don't want that."

There was something akin to contempt in Lukas' face, in the curl of his lip, and it made Matthias' veins hum with energy. Perhaps he could take care of himself. Perhaps not. But he wasn't stupid, and they both knew it was better not to take chances, so Matthias wasn't surprised at all when Lukas finally took a seat.

"Right then, glad that's settled."

Lukas eyed him as he stole a couple of rolls from the tray's the previous occupants of the table had left behind.

"Why?"

At first, Matthias didn't know what he was talking about. Once it clicked, however, he quirked a half-smile, biting into the bread and chucking the other roll to Lukas, who caught it easily. "No reason."

Lukas raised an eyebrow, tearing his roll in half.

"You look like fun." Matthias said. _And danger_ , he thought, but he kept that to himself.

Lukas shook his head. "And you look like an idiot." He bit into his own bread, and his eyebrows twitched together in a slight frown.

Matthias laughed.


	2. Makeshift Family

Request for nanny/single parent au. It kinda switched over to anko family along the way.

* * *

Emil was happy.

He didn't make a show of it. He wasn't the type to smile for no reason, skip down the hall, or hum while walking. In fact, he was more likely to scowl and wriggle away if someone - Matthias or Lukas, it didn't matter - tried to hold him. But he was happy.

He spent his days at home, for the most part. Occasionally Matthias would coax him outside with the promise of an ice-cream at the park, and they would spend a few hours at the playground, Emil hogging one end of the see-saw. It was rare that anyone would join him, so he would sit and bounce himself up and down while Matthias chatted to the parents and other nannies. Emil liked to watch as he introduced himself. He could always tell the point he mentioned his job, as it always coincided with a collective double-take from whoever he was talking to at the time. That was about when Emil would get tired of the park, and come and tug at Matthias' hand. On the way home, they would collect the ice-cream - chocolate for Emil, strawberry for Matthias - and take their time on the walk back to the apartment. There was no rush. Lukas wouldn't be back from work until late in the evening.

Matthias cooked dinner. When he first started, he had been an abysmal cook, but he practiced every night, and soon the smells wafting from the kitchen would draw Emil downstairs from his room before he had to be called.

They ate in the lounge room, and scrambled for the remote. Whoever got it first got to choose the channel for the night, and more often than not, Emil would exit the wrestle triumphant, eyes bright and holding the remote aloft in victory as Matthias winced from a well-placed kick. But even when he lost, Matthias would be smiling as he settled into the couch, patting the spot next to him in silent invitation.

After all the food was gone, Emil was often so full he couldn't move. That was why, when Matthias pulled him into his lap and wrapped his arms around him, Emil didn't do more than grumble sleepily. At the very least, he made a convenient blanket.

Neither of them would ever bring up the idea of bed. Not before Lukas returned home.

When the key would finally turn in the lock of the front door, Emil's eyes would fly open, and he would bounce to his feet. Matthias would be asleep, not budging. Sometimes, Emil woke him, and they would go to the door together. Most times he didn't bother, and dashed over to the entrance by himself, flying into Lukas' open arms.

If the day had been hard, the hug would be hard, and Lukas would bury his face into his hair for a few moments before pulling away. If the day had been easy, the hug would be long and gentle, Emil squirming at the small kisses placed on his cheeks and forehead. On really good days, however, the hugs were tight, and kisses many, and Lukas would lift him up and spin him around, a light in his eyes that Emil didn't often see there anymore. Though he squeaked and struggled to get away, Emil liked those days best.

They would wake Matthias, if they had to, and herd themselves into the kitchen. There, Matthias would chatter aimlessly as he re-heated Lukas' share of dinner, asking how the day went, and smiling to himself at the one-word answers. Lukas always ate as though he'd be missing something, and the food would disappear in minutes. The two adults never lingered long there, but would each take one of Emil's hands, and pull him to his feet. They would navigate the staircase together, waiting patiently as he made his way slowly up to the top.

Once in bed, Matthias would read to him, stories from a large book he kept by Emil's bedside, as Lukas stood in the doorway and listened. They were old tales, of magic and wonder, and Emil was far too old for them by now. That's what he said every night, once they were done. They ignored him. Matthias would ruffle his hair, and grin before leaving the room. Only then would Lukas step close, tuck the blankets in firmly, and brush a soft kiss on each of Emil's eyelids, whispering goodnight.

On occasion, he would wake in the middle of the night and wander downstairs. Sometimes it was quiet, gentle murmurs coming from the living room tv, and he would find Matthias and Lukas sleeping on the couch, their bodies curved against one another as they rested. Other times, he could hear music before he left his room, and he would sit at the top of the stairs and watch as they waltzed around the kitchen, or simply rocked from foot to foot, held tight in each other's arms. Every now and then, he would wake in the morning and Matthias would already be there, as though he'd never left.

Emil didn't question the day Matthias stopped going home. It seemed natural to have him there. And if that was the reason Lukas was smiling more, then that was all the better.

Emil was happy. He wasn't the type to make a show of it.

But he was happy.


End file.
